


so i'll leave it out of all my prose

by thefaceofno



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Pining, Truth Spells, aroace enjolras, tru wuv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 03:29:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2566646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefaceofno/pseuds/thefaceofno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a truth spell saves the day (but it also kinda sucks too)</p>
            </blockquote>





	so i'll leave it out of all my prose

**Author's Note:**

> tfw u write 4 the first time in 2 yrs :/
> 
> ngl I had 2 fight not 2 call this 'the feuilly fan club' -- title is from 'metaphors' by keaton henson

 “You know, in fiction this is called ‘deus ex machina.’”

“You know, in reality you’re _really not helping_.” Enjolras flopped back onto the bed, away from his laptop as Courfeyrac sniggered into his hand.

“So you’re hating this?”

“No, I love spending time with you two. _Damn it_ Courfeyrac!” Enjolras covered his face where he was lying down, half off his bed, and Combeferre looked up for the first time in half an hour.

“Courfeyrac, stop baiting him. You know this is uncomfortable for him, and the last thing he needs is his closest friends using _whatever this is_ against him.” Enjolras raised his eyebrows pointedly at Courfeyrac, who threw his legs over Enjolras’ and spread his arms out.

“I’d probably be less upset if he had anything to hide. I didn’t think anyone could be that open about how much they believe in things.” 

Enjolras lifted his head to grin at Courfeyrac, “You’re just surprised about how much I honestly love you guys.”

Courfeyrac snorted. “That’s just co-dependency, you know the rest of us love you just as much.” Enjolras’ grin widened, and he turned his gaze to Combeferre who was watching with one eyebrow raised.

“You know we actually have to research if we’re going to get rid of this thing for you?” 

Courfeyrac sat up and focused on Combeferre, scattering some of the papers around him. “So tell us the situation.” 

“No accounts of something like this happening to someone else have ever been published let alone reported on, unless they’re saved personally and have a level of disconnect from the public eye. I’m pretty sure that ‘magical truth spell’ isn’t going to receive many results. Our best bet is to wait for it to wear off, seen as we’re unlikely to be bringing together any people who ‘love each other completely and truly’, or whatever it was the creepy old lady said.” Combeferre spoke with his eyes steady on Enjolras. The unspoken ‘if you ask us to, we’ll work until you’re okay’ hung in the air, and Enjolras chewed his lip, gaze flicking between Combeferre and Courfeyrac.

“I’m just... Worried about revealing secrets that aren’t mine to reveal.” His eyes closed briefly. Combeferre and Courfeyrac smiled in sync, and Combeferre reached out to touch Enjolras’ shoulder.

“No one would hold it against you if you were directly questioned about something and you can’t lie. Our friends have more sense than to hate you for something you can’t control; isn’t that the whole point of Les Amis?” Combeferre smiled beatifically and squeezed Enjolras’ shoulder. Enjolras shot him a look of disbelief; both of them knowing Enjolras had been keeping Combeferre’s most coveted secret for years. Combeferre nodded slightly, and Enjolras relaxed. Courfeyrac stretched and checked his phone, grinning down at it briefly.

“Well, if you two nerds are done, we have been invited to a-“ here he pushed his shoulders back and his chin up, making his voice as deep as he could “- strictly social gathering at the Musain!” Courfeyrac exclaimed, then deflated. Enjolras turned off his laptop and hastily plaited his hair, while Courfeyrac ambled out the room to go grab a coat, followed by Combeferre who nudged him with his shoulder.

“You know Feuilly doesn’t mean to come across so intimidating,” Combeferre murmured. Courfeyrac tipped his head back and grinned up at Combeferre.

“And I don’t mean to come across as so funny but –“

“-here we are.” Combeferre joined in for the last words, raising his eyebrows while a rueful grin passed across his face. Courfeyrac grinned up at him, delighted.

“You finally caught on to how delightful I am!” 

Combeferre made a noise of vague sarcastic assent, and Courfeyrac turned and reached on his tiptoes to reach his coat hook. Combeferre’s eyes followed him, briefly flicking to his lips and away again. The sarcastic smile on his face softened into an honest adoring smile, but his head dipped and he leaned down to pull on his shoes, reluctant to let Courfeyrac see the sappiness in his eyes. Enjolras tripped into the hall, pulling on his red coat with one shoe on his foot, hair halfway out of his plait. Combeferre stopped him and re-plaited his hair while Courfeyrac tried not to watch, checking his phone and opening the door.

 

 

 

 

“Do you think...” Combeferre trailed off, looking uncertain. Courfeyrac turned to look at him, narrowly dodged a lamppost, and said; 

“Not very often, but please elaborate.”

“Grantaire is going to be there.” Combeferre said with an air of finality. Courfeyrac’s face twisted, and the other two knew that he stubbornly believed people would be better than expected, even when they have an extensive history of not being so great. Like Grantaire. Enjolras, who endeavoured to share the same ideals, and idolised Courfeyrac because of them, steeled his expression, allowing his trust in his friends and their good natures to overrule his discomfort with being in this situation. Combeferre nodded, but addressed Enjolras regardless.

“If you’re uncomfortable, please come and get one of us. Or both of us, and we will remove you from the situation at our own expense. Don’t make yourself uncomfortable because you want others to have a good time, alright?” Enjorlas nodded and smiled at him, charmed by his intense honesty, and led the way into the Musain.

 

 

 

 

Jehan, talking through their latest poem, snagged Courfeyrac on his way past for his input on the meter of the verse. Courfeyrac let himself be caught up with a parting “Call me if you need me” to Enjolras. Combeferre half shrugged at Enjolras, and moved them over to where Bahorel was demanding their presence and hence opinion on the latest topic of discussion; in this case, figure dancing allowing same sex couples to compete within mixed events. Combeferre joined Feuilly in playing devil’s advocate, while Enjolras, Bahorel and Bossuet created arguments. Courfeyrac, Jehan and Marius were assessing different rhythm patterns in Jehan’s poem, Marius suggesting translations when English words didn’t quite fit right. Joly, Cosette and Grantaire were listening in to the discussion between Combeferre, Feuilly, Enjolras, Bahorel and Bossuet, occasionally fact checking and backing up arguments. When the discussion was winding down, almost an hour after Enjolras had arrivied, Bahorel turned cir attention to Enjolras, asking

“How do you know so much about competitive dancing?” To which Enjolras face twisted, before he responded involuntarily;

“I was forced into dancing when I was younger, and when I’m really stressed I do ballet, even though I don’t have my old leotard.” Bahorel’s eyes widened and ce grinned exuberantly. From behind cem, Grantaire’s left eye twitched.

“Have you not got rid of that spell thing yet?” 

Enjolras blushed and his eyes dropped to the floor. Feuilly raised his eyebrows.  

“You still trust us enough to come here when you’re involuntarily telling the truth?” 

Enjolras’ blush deepenened. “Of course I do.” Feuilly’s face spread into a lopsided grin. Grantaire angled his body more towards Enjolras, obviously setting himself up for a joke.

“I suppose now would be a bad time to ask what you really think of me?” Enjolras’ eyes widened as he started to involuntarily answer, his expression of panic being directed at Combeferre as his mouth opened;

“I think you-“ He was cut off as Combeferre pulled him aside, bustling him out the door with Courfeyrac following close after. Bahorel twisted around to punch R hard in the arm, while Feuilly cast a disappointed and slightly reproachful gaze on Grantaire.

“You were really gonna force him to answer? When he can’t form his sentences in a way that he would want you to hear? Have you ever heard of a thing called ‘ _privacy’_ and ‘ _consent’_ , R, because they’re pretty damn important.” Grantaire’s cheeks flushed with shame, and his mouth twisted as he responded 

“I didn’t think Enjolras would be compelled to answer when the focus of the question was on a different part of the question...” 

Feuilly rolled his eyes and stood.

“Think before you speak, R. I’m going to make sure he’s okay.” Bahorel’s eyes flitted up to Feuilly as he left and cir mouth twitched into a smile. Joly rolled his eyes.

 

 

 

 

“I’m taking Enjolras home; we’re gonna watch Disney movies!” Courfeyrac exclaimed. Enjolras’ expression twitched, barely and Combeferre’s eyes softened as he looked at Courfeyrac.

“I’m going to stay. I have to speak to R, but I also want to go over an article in the BMJ with Joly.” Courfeyrac grinned at Combeferre,

“Yeah, we know you two are too clever for us. Feuilly, we’ll see you later. Say goodbye to everyone from Enjolras and me, we’ll organise a movie night or something as soon as this is over.” 

Feuilly nodded and re-entered the Musain with Combeferre, raising his eyebrow at Combeferre when he watched Courfeyrac and Enjolras walk for far longer than was necessary.

 

 

 

 

Enjolras’ expression didn’t change all the way back to Courfeyrac’s flat, Combeferre’s absence meaning his recovery would take longer than usual, seen as Courfeyrac didn’t know how Combeferre always managed to twist his words to make everything seem lighter no matter how dark the situation. He pulled Enjolras onto the sofa, queuing up his favourite Disney movies and chucking a bunch of blankets over him. Half way through Mulan, Enjolras sighed and relaxed into Courfeyrac’s hold.

“I’m sorry people suck,” Courfeyrac said, squeezing him briefly. Enjolras blew air out his nose and let his head fall on Courfeyrac’s shoulder.

“I wish people would just... Accept that I’m not the same as them. I hate that people say ‘men shouldn’t kiss each other’ but can’t handle me not wanting to kiss anyone. It’s counter-intuitive.” Courfeyrac grinned and Enjolras tipped his head.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No, of course not. I just haven’t ever heard that comparison before. You’re fantastic at thinking about things in ways I’ve never even considered. It still amazes me, is all.”

Enjolras’s eyes brightened at the praise, surprised that he’d managed to surprise Courfeyrac.

“I thought that was Combeferre’s job.” Courfeyrac’s grin widened, a fond expression taking over his face and his eyes closed briefly.

“Combeferre’s job is surprising me in everything that he does, whether it be being painfully intelligent and competent while teaching someone, or being accidentally devastatingly hot when he’s... existing.” Courfeyrac’s voice turned humorous and lilting, “What’s that expression for? Don’t wrinkle your nose at me!”

“Just, you calling our best friend hot, it’s weird.”

“It’s not weird, have you _seen_ him? He makes sweater vests look attractive. That takes some twist of fate.” 

Enjolras huffed a laugh at that.

“I suppose his face is rather nicely structured. I wouldn’t know whether he’s ‘devastatingly hot’ or not. What exactly is he devastating?”

“He’s devastating my-“

“Actually, I don’t want to know.”

“.... I was going to say ‘life’” 

Enjolras’ eyebrow rose slowly as they didn’t break eye contact. Courfeyrac broke first, collapsing into giggles in Enjolras’ hair. Enjolras petted his back and smiled absently.

“At least people like you the way you want them to like you.”

Courfeyrac looked at Enjolras in surprise. “What do you mean?” 

Enjolras smiled sadly at him, the emotions from earlier returning to his face, the magic forcing him to respond in full to Courfeyrac’s question. “I don’t know how to discourage people falling in love with me. You’re natural in navigating that kind of thing, but I’m useless at picking up signals from anyone.”

Courfeyrac stared. “Grantaire is a special case.”

Enjolras shrugged. “I could have told him no in the beginning.”

“You can’t change people’s emotions, neither yours nor Grantaire’s.” 

Enjolras nodded. “I know that. I just wish I could be more like you.”

Courfeyrac squeezed him tighter. “You’re perfect just the way you are. And you’ll always tell me there are people there who are in love with me, right”

“Yeah, both me and Combeferre.” Enjolras’ eyes widened as he said that, and he slammed both his hands over his mouth. Courfeyrac jumped at the sudden movement, turning to asses Enjolras.

“Wait, no.” Courfeyrac leaned closer. “I know you meant you’re there for me because you love me and Combeferre equally but why are you...” Enjolras slowly lowered his hands from his mouth and shrunk back into the sofa, getting a strange expression on his face. Courfeyrac swung his leg over Enjolras and pushed his shoulder back into the sofa.

“Don’t you dare try to get out of this, _what did you mean about Combeferre?_ ”

“ _He’s in love with you!_ ”

 

The door swung open, and both Courfeyrac and Enjolras froze, Courfeyrac pushing Enjolras against the sofa, holding his wrists up. A rather dishevelled Combeferre walked in. He hung up his coat.

“Feuilly’s still amazing, he explained every detail of why what Grantaire did was a shitty thing. I was just there to act as a voice of reason, really. He did all the work for me.” He grinned ruefully and leaned against the wall, saying “You missed Jehan’s ‘incomplete’ poetry reading, but they said they’d perform it again for you. It was really good, Bahorel was definitely wiping cir eyes...” The last word faded away as he turned to see Courfeyrac and Enjolras on the sofa, both with deer-in-the-headlights looks on their faces. A heartbeat later, Combeferre’s right eyebrow rose.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Courfeyrac’s grip relaxed, his wide eyes sliding to Enjolras, as he fell off of Enjolras’ lap in a slick flump. His mouth opened passively.

“ _Really?_ ”  

Again, unwillingly, Enjolras answered Courfeyrac.

“Yes.”

Courfeyrac’s gaze flickered up to Combeferre and fixed. The sound of Mulan in the background battered against the tension between the three. Combeferre, fearing the worst, spliced his eyes from Courfeyrac’s unreadable gaze to Enjolras’ desperately apologetic one.  His jaw loosened and he spoke a small  
“Oh,”  
before turning and leaving the flat again.

Courfeyrac tripped up to standing at Enjolras’ push and yell of “Go after him you idiot!” but arrived at the street too late, to see Combeferre getting on a bus down the street. The one that stops right outside Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta’s apartment. Making the elective decision not to run after a public bus in his pyjamas at night, Courfeyrac slowly walked back up the stairs to the flat. He looked into the living room where Enjolras was on his phone, biting his thumb nail worriedly. Hearing Courfeyrac return he looked up.

“Combeferre’s staying the night at Joly’s. Apparently he’s studying, and he won’t return the rest of my texts. I rang Joy and told them they’re going to gain a probably weepy Combeferre.” Enjolras’ shoulders slumped and his eyes were full of regret. Courfeyrac pushed himself into Enjolras’ space for the second time that night.

“Don’t worry, Enjolras. You know he won’t blame you. I’m so sorry for making you say that, and I know that none of us blame you for not being able to control this. He should blame me, and thank you.”

Enjolras’ face slipped into a rueful smile. “It’s okay, Courfeyrac, I trust you. He might not trust me for a while, though. He told me that under confidentially. Maybe while he was drunk.. well we were both pretty drunk. It was just before your dad died last year, when I was finally starting to accept my aromanticism. You were with your dad in France, and I needed to get drunk with someone and, well. Combeferre offered, saying he was having trouble with romantic feelings as well.”

Courfeyrac nudged Enjolras with his shoulder. “Don’t worry about justifying yourself. If he figured it out around when my dad died I don’t blame him for not wanting to add romantic feelings to the mix. I was pretty messed up back then.”

Enjolras nodded. “That’s why he didn’t tell you back then. Past that point, you’ll have to ask him. That’s about as much as I feel okay telling you.” 

Courfeyrac let his head fall onto Enjolras’ shoulder. “Guess I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to talk to him then. You know that I realised I was in love with him right around that time, too. He was so good with talking me through everything, and he didn’t complain no matter how many times I cried on his shoulder.. I bet I was really gross.” Enjolras snorted.

“He wasn’t just figuring it out then.”

“What?!”

Enjolras lifted his head and looked him in the eye. “He’s been in love with you for years.” 

Courfeyrac’s breath caught in his throat.

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“I said, give me your phone Enjolras, he has to come home right now, I need to sort this out right now.”

“It can’t wait one more night?”

“Not if he’s been in love with me for _years_ , when the fuck was he planning on telling me?!” Courfeyrac, now with Enjolras’ phone in hand, dialled Joly’s number.

_“Enjolras?”_

“Is Combeferre there yet?”

_“Wait, Courfeyrac-“_

“Seriously, is Combeferre there yet, I need to talk to him. Put him in the car and bring him back right now.”

_“Can’t you drive?”_

“I drank at the Musain earlier, _please_ Joly I need him to be here right now.”

_“He’s not very... Put together right now. I don’t know whether he wants to see you when he’s like this.”_

“Joly, please.” Joly paused on the other end of the line, sounding like he was pacing.

_“Why is he crying?”_

“He thinks I don’t love him.”

“ _Okay, I’ll bring him back.”_

“Thank you so much Joly, thank you.”

_“If you hurt him any more I swear to god, I know 30 ways to kill a man with a toothpick”_

“I don’t doubt you do, but I need him here so he can _stop_ hurting.”

“ _Good.”_ Courfeyrac could almost hear his smile. _“We’ll be there soon.”_  
Dropping the phone, Courfeyrac turned to Enjolras.

“Joly. Is a saint. I need to buy him flowers.” Enjolras raised his eyebrow.

“You need to buy me flowers, too.”

“Okay! Everyone gets flowers.” Enjolras smiled affectionately before an expression of dawning horror came over his face.

“Wait.. I’m not listening to your _relationship discussions_ ,”- _fucking_ -, Courfeyrac translated in his head, “where’s Feuilly when you need him?! Do you think Joly would take me home with him?” Courfeyrac shrugged and fell to his feet again.

“I gotta go make myself look good.” He beelined to the bathroom, where all his various hair gels resided. Enjolras listened with amusement to the crashes, cursing and ruffles of clothing, snorting loudly at an exclamation of ‘ _holy sweatpants, batman,_ ’ at which point a pair of trousers hit him in the face.

“Why are you changing your pants? You two need to talk!” Courfeyrac stepped out his bedroom, his skinniest jeans halfway up one leg.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t look good, though.” Enjolras slapped his hand over his eyes.

“Please put your trousers on.” Courfeyrac laughed delightedly, jumping up and down, trying to get his jeans properly on. When his jeans were halfway up his arse and Enjolras’ face had made its way into a sofa cushion, the doorbell rang.

“Fuck!” With a final pull, Courfeyrac got his jeans up covering his butt, and Enjolras emerged from his sofa cushion to go answer the door. Joly was standing there, holding the sleeve of an even more dishevelled than he was before Combeferre, with red eyes and dark circles beneath them, his hair falling onto his face and his eyes on the floor. A faint hint of blush coloured his dark cheeks when he shook his sleeve out of Joly’s grip. Enjolras pulled Combeferre in the door and pushed himself out of it.

“Joly, take me back with you. I don’t want to listen to them.” 

Joly grinned and transferred his grip to Enjolras’ sleeve. “Good luck!” He exclaimed, dragging Enjolras away, and Enjolras looked all the more grateful for it. Combeferre shut the door quietly and turned to face Courfeyrac, his eyes still on the floor.

“I’m sorry I never told you. I didn’t want to make anything awkward... like it probably is now.”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Combeferre’s head snapped up, his surprised gaze falling on Courfeyrac. “What?”

“I said, shut the fuck up. I’ll forgive you for never telling me because you were scared of me telling you to fuck off, but you should have at least been able to _pick up on a hint!_ ” 

Combeferre’s eyes widened and his jaw loosened. “Wha-“

“I love you too, you absolute fucking walnut. Never keep secrets from me again.”

Combeferre’s eyes widened impossibly further, and his hands twitched by his sides. “You... You’d want o date me?”

“I’ve wanted to date you for more than half a year.”

Combeferre took a half step forward. “You-“ He stopped himself and stared at Courfeyrac again. When he spoke again his voice was half the volume, but his eyes hadn’t moved from Courfeyrac’s.

“Can I kiss you?” 

Courfeyrac stepped forward and put his hands on either side of Combeferre’s face, smiling widely at him.

“Whenever you want.” Combeferre’s smile grew, leaning forward and pressing their lips gently together, threading his fingers into Courfeyrac’s hair, putting his other hand on Courfeyrac’s waist, pressing their bodies together as he deepened the kiss. Courfeyrac sighed gently against his mouth, and his hands tightened in his hair as the hand on his waist pulled him up, to be more flush against Combeferre. He pulled away and pressed their foreheads together.

“You look so tired,” Courfeyrac said, brushing his thumbs over the circles below Combeferre’s eyes before pulling him into a hug.

“What a thing to say just after our first kiss.” Courfeyrac laughed, his body shaking in Combeferre’s arms, before he pulled back, his hands sliding down over Combeferre’s arms.

“Okay, I’ll try again. I love you, you look amazing even though you’re obviously about to fall asleep.” Combeferre pulled an exhausted smile onto his face, his shoulders slumping, his body forming a curve over Courfeyrac’s.

“I want to sleep, but after this discussion it’d feel anticlimactic.” 

Courfeyrac smiled and pressed a kiss to Combeferre’s lips before speaking. “We can do everything tomorrow, Joly won’t let Enjolras go until he’s eaten a proper nutritious breakfast, and you know how long it takes Enjolras to eat breakfast.” 

Combeferre smiled adoringly. “I’m sorry for not telling you.”

Courfeyrac looked him in the eyes and saw the honest apology he was trying to convey through layers of guilt he had applied through years of dishonesty. “It’s okay now. I would have preferred us not keeping any secrets, but for the past few months I’ve been keeping this a secret from you as well. I’m sorry as well, and hopefully we can both agree to not keep any more secrets.”

“Not even with Enjolras to act as a middle man.”

“We should buy him flowers for being so great throughout this.”

“He always told me to tell you.”

Courfeyrac grabbed Combeferre’s hand and pulled him to his bedroom.

“And so you should have, but we both know now and it worked out in the best possible way. So stop guilting yourself and working yourself into logic spirals where you’re the guilty party here. We both made mistakes but we’re okay now, and I love you.”

Combeferre pulled off his shirt and sat down on the bed, guiding Courfeyrac between his legs. “I love you too, but you’re wrong about one thing.” Courfeyrac tiled his head and made a curious noise. “Not the best possible way.” Courfeyrac’s eyebrows furrowed, and Combeferre smoothed the crease out with his thumb. “We could still be kissing right now.” Courfeyrac raised one eyebrow at him, a reluctant smile forming over his face and Combeferre grinned back at him, pulling him forwards into a kiss. Courfeyrac pulled back and frowned.

“Hold on a second.” He twisted around, pulling his skinny jeans off before climbing over Combeferre and pulling him into a hug while lying down on the bed.

“Sleep now, sex later?” Combeferre grinned into Courfeyrac’s neck.

“Of course.” Courfeyrac pressed a kiss into Combeferre’s hair, which Combeferre returned on his collarbone.

 

 

 

 

In the morning, Joly asked Enjolras why he didn’t like eating breakfast. Enjolras glared at him, and didn’t realise he didn’t answer the question automatically until after three cups of coffee (and a rabbit food- _healthy and nutritious, Enjolras!_ breakfast).

**Author's Note:**

> god i'm so nervous abt this have mercy  
> +pls tell me if I messed up on spelling pronouns grammar etc.  
> (I actually love grantaire sorry bae)


End file.
